


Black

by SuggestiveScribe



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Depression, I don't know what this is or what I was trying to say with it, I just knew I had to say it, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-05
Updated: 2015-07-05
Packaged: 2018-04-07 20:30:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4276935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuggestiveScribe/pseuds/SuggestiveScribe





	Black

Kuroo could almost feel it when he walked through the door. The silence of the house blanketed his skin like humidity. He shuffled down the hallway, shadows collecting in corners like they understood the inherent stillness of the quiet.

Kuroo paused in front of the doorway to the bedroom.

"Hey."

Kenma was laying across the bed, eyes staring up at the ceiling, blonde locks sprawled across the comforter. He didn't say anything.

"Are you okay?"

Kenma opened his mouth, throat working, and then closed it again without a sound. His chest hitched with his breathing.

Kuroo walked over to him, sliding his fingers across his forehead and through his hair. He didn't look at Kenma's eyes. Instead he kept his gaze purposefully trained on the tendrils wrapping and sliding around his fingertips, "Is it something in particular?"

Kenma barely shook his head, swallowing, "It's nothing. It's everything. It's..." his voice trailed off and he closed his eyes against the steady sensation of Kuroo's touch.

"Did something trigger it?"

Kenma shook his head, "I don't know," he answered thinly.

There was a pause, a moment of nothing but Kuroo's hand gliding through silken strands of brown and gold. "Have you eaten today?" he asked in a soft voice.

Kenma blinked a few times, brow twitching into a furrow for a moment, "I..."

Kuroo inwardly cursed himself for not asking about it when he had texted him on his lunch break. "Okay," Kuroo said, dipping down to press a kiss against Kenma's forehead, "I'll go make dinner."

He turned to walk out of the bedroom and down the hallway.

#

>> Finally got to take lunch. Have you eaten today?

>> I had rice.

>> That's good. Try and eat something else before I get home today okay?

>> ... thinking about eating makes me feel sick. Everything feels too heavy on my tongue.

>> Maybe... some miso?

>> maybe.

>> Please try for me.

>> I will. For you.

#

"I told him if he kept spreading us so thin on the schedule people would be greedier with their time and he waved me off, but now it's half-assed impossible to even take a break so--" Kuroo paused. Kenma was curled up on the couch, legs against his chest, lips against his knees. "Kenma?"

Kenma appeared to inhale awareness, and he lifted his head off his knees to blink over at Kuroo.

Kuroo felt his chest deflate, "Did you..."

"I'm sorry," Kenma said, eyes soft and gold in apology. "I'm having trouble concentrating, it's..."

"It's fine," Kuroo said with a smile that he desperately didn't want to look sad.

Kenma straightened his back. "Please start over," he asked.

"No. It's fine." But then he saw Kenma's eyes, wide and glassy, and he realized this probably felt like punishment. Kuroo smiled, "So my boss recently redid the schedule--"

"Last week."

"Right, and..."

#

Kenma was on the bed, staring up at the ceiling.

Kuroo flopped down beside him, gazing up at the blank white above them, "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No."

"Do you want to talk at all?"

"No."

Kuroo slid his fingers between Kenma's and gripped his hand. He exhaled into the air and allowed his eyes to flutter closed, joining Kenma in the silence. After a while Kenma curled onto his chest. Kuroo pet his hair until his shoulders stopped shaking.

#

Kenma's eyes were fixed on a design document. He hadn't moved, hadn't edited or added, in a long time. He blinked through his reading glasses and stared at something no one else could see.

Kuroo lifted his hand to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear. Kenma leaned away from the touch.

Kuroo swallowed the clench of his heart in his throat and left the room.

#

"I don't want to do this anymore," Kenma said, tears falling heavy over his cheeks and off his chin. "I don't know how to take it anymore."

They were curled up on the floor, backs against the bed frame. Kuroo took Kenma's hand. He slid his fingers over his palm, up the thin line of his fingers, pressed sensation against his fingertips. Kenma shook.

"I'm tired," he breathed through his tears. "Inside I feel so tired."

"I know," Kuroo said quietly. He repressed the burn in his eyes.

"You don't deserve this," Kenma muttered, "you shouldn't have to deal with this."

Kuroo intertwined their fingers, watching the lock of flesh and bones, "I'm not dealing with anything."

" _Me_ ," Kenma whispered through the tremble in his lungs, "You have to deal with _me_."

"I love you more than anything," Kuroo said, vaguely pleased with the steadiness of his voice. "I'm not dealing. I'm loving."

"I don't deserve you," Kenma repeated.

God that pissed Kuroo off. That pissed Kuroo off more than anything. He pressed his face into Kenma's shoulder, breathed in the scent of his neck. "Kenma," he whispered. "I've never felt like I deserve you. I never understood why I should be allowed to be with someone who makes me so happy." His throat was growing tight, "Please don't say that. Please don't discredit your importance to me."

"I just want to be happy," Kenma whimpered, tears falling heavily onto their hands.

Kuroo felt tears well up in his eyes, "I know."

"My mind is such a mess," Kenma told him. "I don't understand it at all."

"It's okay," Kuroo said, lightly rocking against him, "we can grow to understand it together."

"I don't want you to understand it," Kenma said, voice cracking. "It's black and chaotic and horrible. I can only make sense of a few things and the rest is dark and empty; it's hell but it's _me_ and I don't want anyone..." his chest started heaving, "to see it."

Kuroo brought his hand to his cheek, palm sliding against hot tears. "I'll love you no matter what I see," Kuroo reassured him. "Nothing could ever make me love you less."

"This would," Kenma cried softly against his hand. "This would."

Kuroo pressed his forehead against Kenma's temple, held him as he cried. He let him cry against him, he told him he loved him in small whispers. Finally he calmed a little, and Kuroo asked if he could leave to go make dinner.

When he was out in the kitchen he braced his weight against the countertop. He covered his mouth with one hand as tears slid over his knuckles and onto the laminate. He felt his shoulders shake.

 _I just want you to be happy too_.

#

>> when you get home... I don't want to talk.

>> okay. Have you eaten?

>> yeah.

Kuroo leaned forward and pressed his forehead against his steering wheel.

#

"Can you come with me?"

Kenma looked up at him from his spot on the couch, "I don't really want to see people..."

"No people," Kuroo said simply. "Just me."

Kenma looked at him uncertainly for a moment, then finally rose to his feet.

They drove with Kenma staring out the passenger window, streetlights lighting his face at rhythmic intervals. Kuroo didn't play music. He didn't talk. He parked in an open parking lot at the edge of town and pulled a blanket out from the back of the car.

Kenma followed his motions, moving cautiously behind him as he laid the blanket out on the grass.

Kuroo laid down without saying anything and Kenma laid beside him. They stared up at the sky, an inky black that ate everything but the stars that dared flare through it.

Kuroo's eyes slid from star to star, and for longer than he had intended, they were quiet.

"This," Kuroo said, "is the most beautiful thing a human can see from Earth."

Kenma didn't say anything.

"I love it," Kuroo went on. "I love looking at it. I love thinking about it. I love that we have no fucking clue what's going on up there." Kuroo raised his hand, "Look." Kenma tracked his motion, followed the sweep of his fingers beneath the sky. "Look at all that black. Endless, unknown, terrifying black." His next sentence rushed from his lungs like a breath, "And a few things we can actually see." Kuroo turned his head so he could barely glimpse Kenma in his peripheral, "This is how I see your mind."

Kenma's breath hitched, and Kuroo saw his fingers flinch on the blanket.

Kuroo moved his eyes back to the fullness of the sky, "We don't have to know everything about it to know it's beautiful."

He saw Kenma's head turn a little, face tipping away from Kuroo.

"I don't want you to think of your mind as a horrible black thing," Kuroo told him. "I want you to realize that it's vast and beautiful like a galaxy, like a universe. And no, we can't see everything, but..." his slid his fingers under Kenma's palm, "I'm in awe of every spark of light I see." He blinked and felt a tear slide down the side of his face, "Those glimmers are so beautiful that I love everything else, without question."

Kenma squeezed around his hand, chest shaking. He heard the ragged intake of breath, and when Kuroo turned to glance at Kenma he was covering his mouth, tears pouring down the side of his face.

"I love you," Kuroo reminded him. "Don't be afraid to be honest with me and show yourself to me. We'll work though it together, like everything else." He watched Kenma squeeze his eyes shut, "Okay?"

Kenma nodded.

Kuroo moved closer to him, pressing his lips in against his shoulder, "Your mind is the most amazing thing I've ever come across." He nuzzled against him, "One day I want to help you appreciate the stars like I do."

Kenma turned to him, pressing a kiss that tasted of tears against his lips, and he inhaled a small sob against his mouth.

"I love you," he whispered, hand trembling against Kuroo's neck.

Kuroo pulled him close, "I love you too."


End file.
